


gonna love you through it

by lucylikestowrite



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Injury, F/F, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-16 10:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18092450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: in which lucy makes bad things happen to our favourite blonde power couple as part of the bad things bingo tumblr challenge





	1. hair matted with blood

**Author's Note:**

> my bingo card can be found [here](https://twitter.com/_avasharpe/status/1105075235370557440) but i won't be taking prompts on what to do next. i'm gonna use a random number generator to decide the prompt, then might ask ideas of what to do with that prompt.
> 
> it will probably mostly be angst with a happy ending but i can't confirm, which is why i've set it to chose not to use archive warnings, in case i decide to kill one of them. the rating is subject to change.
> 
> unless mentioned, they're all set in canon, and are not to be seen as following on from each other
> 
> happy angsting!

The heat of the battle is the place Sara knows best.

(Maybe second best. Maybe, at some point, Ava’s arms became the place she knows like the back of her hand. The place she doesn’t even have to think about anything, just knows that Ava’s got her, and she has her back. Knows how to make her smile or laugh or gasp. Maybe between Ava’s legs, or with Ava between hers is the place she knows best.)

This is a _close_ second, though, because fighting is ingrained deep within her, down to the very basis of her psyche, down to the only thing she knew when she was brought back. Here, she can switch off, just concentrate on fighting, on blocking blows and fending of attacks and making attacks of her own.

With Ava at her back, never more than an arms length away, she feels safe. Partly because Ava is another line of defence, another thing stopping anyone from getting through Sara’s almost foolproof barrier she puts up around herself, but mainly because having Ava there means she can keep an eye on her, make sure she’s okay, because, in reality, that’s infinitely more important than protecting herself.

They’d hardly been dating more than a few days—those few days combining with their talks over the past couple of weeks of talking to reveal how much softer Ava was than she pretended to be, how much she brings out this instinct in Sara to _protect—_ before Sara knew she’d give everything she had and more to keep this woman, this woman who’d seen the worst in her and still wanted to be with her, this woman who, once you got through her outer shell, loved so unconditionally, from absolutely any harm that could befall her.

So, she always keeps Ava at her back, always makes sure they’re fighting in tandem, back to back, never straying far, always trying to get back if they get pulled away.

And then she gets a blow to the back, a punch that Ava would’ve usually deflected, and when she turns around, Ava isn’t there. Isn’t anywhere close, anywhere Sara can see. Her heart immediately speeds up as her eyes scan the room for the flash of blonde she needs to spot in order for her ability to breathe to reappear.

She can’t see her. There’s bodies everywhere, and it’s dark, and they’re in the middle of a _battle_ , but she still can’t breathe.

She can’t shout because that would require air. All she can do is stumble through the dust and smoke and stink of blood in the air, fending off blows without even thinking, still desperately scanning the room, hoping for _something._

And then, finally, she gets it. She sees Ava’s face, sees her uniform, sees the lines of a body she’d know anywhere.

She’s twenty feet away, leaning up against a wall, breathing heavily. Sara speeds towards her, and the closer she gets, the more she realises why she didn’t spot her sooner—because her hair is hardly blonde anymore. Everyone has a thin layer of grime and mud on them, so her hair would already be darker than usual, but, now…

Now it’s stained red. So red that Sara’s heart immediately speeds up again as she practically sprints across the remaining ground between them.

The second she reaches Ava, she has her in her arms, and Ava collapses into her, like she’s lost all energy. Her head falls onto Sara’s chest, and Sara has to hold in a gasp, because it’s even worse up close. The whole crown of her head is red, blood matting in her hair. The wound is a horrible gash across her scalp.

“Baby,” she whispers, her thumb gently stroking over Ava’s hair, as Ava’s arms clutch into her, her weight almost too much.

Only almost, though—she’d die before she’d let Ava hit the ground.

Against her chest, it sounds like Ava is trying to say something, and every other sound in the room fades away, until nothing exists but Sara and her girlfriend, struggling to talk. “You need to get— get back to the team,” Ava rasps. “Don’t worry about me. I can— I can courier.”

But her eyes are drooping, her body getting limper and limper, and it’s clear she’s about to pass out.

Sara lets out a harsh laugh, the ridiculousness of the statement forcing the sound out of her. “You think I’m gonna leave you like this, Ava? Really?”

“You’re the captain. Gotta help your team. ‘m fine,” Ava mumbles, but then she’s gone, falling into unconsciousness, the pulse in the hands around Sara’s neck and warmth of her breath on Sara’s skin the only thing stopping Sara from falling into panic.

She reaches down, tears the bottom of her shirt away, holding it down on Ava’s head, before pressing a finger to her ear. “Ava’s hurt, guys. Bad. You’re on your own. I’m out of here.”

She doesn’t wait for a response—not that anything they could say could really change her mind, anyway—before pressing the emergency button on Ava’s courier, dragging them through it, into a building a block away they’d designated their respite point. It’s not safe to travel through time, to try to rely on the couriers’ ability to lock onto the Waverider. They can only do that once Ava has at least stopped bleeding quite this much, through the makeshift bandage and on to Sara’s hands, staining them a horrible shade of red.

Once she’s there, she lowers them to the ground, Ava’s head in her lap. “Ava,” she whispers, taps her fingers on her face, leaving bloody fingerprints, melding in with all the blood already on her face. So much blood. “Wake up, baby, come on. I need you to wake up. You’re not having to stand up any more. I need you awake.” When Ava doesn’t react, Sara grits her teeth, knowing that it’s not going to help trying to jostle her, that all she can do is keep the fabric pressed to her head, and hope she wakes up.

Thirty seconds later, to Sara’s relief, she does.

Ava’s eyes blink open and she groans, swears, her hand going to her head, to where Sara is pressing the fabric down. “I passed out?”

“Yeah, baby. It’s okay. I got you. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? I’m just gonna clean you up and stitch you up and then Gideon can do the rest. Just… right now, I need to stop you, like… bleeding out.”

Ava smiles a rueful smile. “Yeah. I’d rather not bleed out.”

Sara wipes her thumb over Ava’s cheek. “You’re gonna be fine. I promise,” she says, pulling the hip flask from her pocket. “But this... is gonna sting, baby girl, I’m sorry.”

“I’ve had wounds cleaned before,” Ava says, her voice disapproving, slightly offended, like Sara thinks she’s weak. “I can deal with a little pain.”

Sara would never think she’s weak. It’s just that this wound is worse than any Ava has acquired in their time together, and, as far she knows, it might be the worst she’s ever had, might be the last she ever has if Sara doesn’t work quick enough—

She stops that train of thought right there. Everything will be fine. There’s no reason to think like that.

“I know. I know, honey,” Sara says, her fingers still moving slowly over Ava’s cheeks, keeping her eyes on Ava. “But its a bad cut, Aves. It’s— deep. So just… hold your breath. Think of something else. Anything else. And close your eyes. I don’t want to blind you with alcohol. ”

“Should I be asking why you have whiskey on a mission?” Ava asks, eyeing the flask.

“You’re always gonna need a drink or a disinfectant, babe. Those are the only two ways a mission can end,” Sara says, before finally pulling the fabric away, wincing as she parts Ava’s hair from the wound, the strands matted together even worse than before. Once the wound is exposed, she tips the flask carefully over Ava’s head. Ava gasps, her hand coming up to grasp Sara’s where it still rests on her cheek, squeezing down, a tear rolling down her cheek, forced out by the shock of pain.

“Fuck,” Ava whispers. “Fuck. I knew it was bad but… shit. That’s… really bad.” Her face is twisted in pain, more tears threatening to spill out, and Sara hates it, hates knowing she’s going to have to cause her more pain before it’s better.

Sara sighs. “What happened, Ava?”

Ava winces as Sara examines the wound, fingers doused in alcohol, checking it for anything left in there. “Knife,” Ava says, between gritted teeth. “I didn’t notice quick enough to fully dodge it. They were going for my face. Managed to block it just well enough to get… this, instead of a blade through my eye.”

Sara grimaces at the thought, tries to keep her hands steady as she threads a needle, tries not to think about the idea of Ava, dead at her feet, a knife through her skull. The image imprints itself on the back of her eyelids, glaring at her when she closes her eyes, so she shakes her head, dissolving the picture, trying to make her voice lighter, to joke her way out of the panic settling on her chest. “It’s a good thing they missed. They wouldn’t have survived ruining this face. I would’ve hunted them down. No-one hurts my girlfriend’s face and gets away with it.”

“But they’re getting away with hurting _not_ my face?” Ava asks, one corner of her mouth twitching up. It falls again, however when Sara starts sewing her up. Sara’s not surprised. Being stitched up is unpleasant, and it’s even worse when it’s your head, the skin tight and sensitive to every sensation.

“Oh, yeah,” Sara says, looking down at her, a smirk on her face, already feeling better now that Ava is half stitched up, even if her skills leave a little to be desired. “You know. It’s only your looks I care about. Gotta have my hot girlfriend to take as my eye candy for work events.”

Ava scoffs, and when she speaks, her voice is indignant. “You don’t _have_ any work events. I do. You’re _my_ eye candy.”

Sara shrugs, before finishing the stitching, setting the needle down. “Okay, yeah,” she says, bending down, pressing a kiss to Ava’s forehead. “I’m the hot one.”

“You…” Ava whispers, shaking her head. “Insufferable.”

“Also the person who just stitched you up and saved your life, but like, no big.”

Ava groans, closing her eyes. “Like I said. Insufferable.”

Sara laughs softly, stroking her hand over Ava’s cheek, relishing in the way that Ava leans into it, all while still trying to pretend she’s mad at Sara, her body not able to maintain the charade.

“You think you can sit up?” Sara asks, quietly.

“Mmm,” Ava hums. “I can try.” She pushes herself up, slowly, her face twisting, but eventually making it, leaning into Sara’s body to steady herself. Sara turns her head slightly, dropping another kiss on Ava’s forehead, ignoring the taste of blood mixed in with alcohol, how it strikes sadness through her heart.

“You’re not gonna pass out again, babe?” Sara whispers, her arms strong around Ava. “You think you’re strong enough for the jump to the Waverider yet?”

Ava nods, before sitting up a little straighter, so that their faces are level. Her lips part, and she’s staring at Sara, her eyes wide. Her whole face is covered in blood. Sara sighs, twists a bit of her hair that isn’t full of blood around her fingers. Ava ducks her head, a blush appearing on her cheeks, obvious even beneath the stains, and it reassures Sara, reassures her that Ava is well enough to react how she normally does, her tongue slipping out between her lips, a gasp escaping her mouth when Sara leans in, kisses her.

When the kiss breaks, Ava rests her forehead on Sara’s, breathing slowly, their chests rising and falling in time.

“Okay. Yeah. I can make it back,” she breathes. Sara’s fingers are still carding through her hair, trying to gently work out some of the tangles. Ava smiles a small smile, moves Sara’s hand away. “It’s okay, my love. Let’s save that for the shower, yeah?”

Sara sighs. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“I know.” Ava presses a light kiss to the corner of Sara’s mouth. “Let’s go, babe.”

So, they do. Sara pulls Ava up, loops her arm around Ava’s waist, Ava leaning in to her, and, thirty seconds later, they’ve locked into the Waverider, are in the med bay, and Gideon’s machinery has Ava under, working on her wound.

She’s done in hardly more than ten minutes, by which point the rest of the Legends are back on the ship, and Sara’s last remaining worry about leaving to go to Ava’s apartment is gone, and they can leave with no qualms.

Once they’re home (Ava’s apartment feels more like home than the Waverider does, now, even if she’s not quite ready to admit that) they take the stairs slowly, both of them exhausted if not injured any longer.

Clothes fall to the ground as Sara undoes the buttons on Ava’s shirt, insisting on doing it for Ava, needing to touch her, to trail her fingers along the lines of her collarbones, her shoudlers, her neck, up over the blood stains on her face. When they’re both undressed, she pushes Ava slowly back into the shower, turns on the water, lets it pour down over both of them.

“You’re not gonna let me get the blood out of my own hair, are you?” Ava asks, a fond smile on her face that tells Sara she doesn’t mind the coddling.

“Nope. Sit down,” Sara says, pointing Ava into the seat in the corner, pulling the shower head away from the wall, and carefully washing the blood out, working her fingers through Ava’s hair as the water runs pink at their feet, finally getting out all the tangles, finally smoothie Ava’s hair out until it’s dark blonde again, glinting in the light.

When she’s done, Ava stands up, pressing Sara up against the wall, her hands on her waist. “Thanks,” she breathes, teasing Sara’s lips open, before pulling her mouth away, going instead to Sara’s neck.

“Any time,” Sara struggles out, hardly able to breathe with Ava on her neck like that.

“Is there anything I could… do to thank you?” Ava asks, her voice low and so very, very enticing.

“I can think of a few things,” Sara says, going a little limp when Ava bites down. “But I think you’re on the right track.”

“Yeah?” Ava whispers, her hands sliding up higher, squeezing down.

“Yeah,” Sara sighs. "I think you are."


	2. near death experience

“So, let me get this straight,” Sara says, her mouth in a hard line, her arms crossed. “Hank has not only been secretly experimenting on the fugitives behind everyone’s back, but has been doing that in cahoots with Neron?”

“Yeah,” Ava sighs, looking down. “And now—”

“And now he’s managed to fabricate some kind of mechanism that can channel power out from the underworld, and into any being he wants? Am I still on the right track?”

Ava nods.

“Except, Neron double-crossed him, and it turns out that, instead of it being able to channel power into the army Hank wants to create, instead, it’s essentially a ginormous fucking magic bomb, capable of exploding into this world with the full power of all the magic in hell, which could cause not only unimaginable physical damage to everything for miles around it, but also wreak even more havoc, because it’s magic being let loose without anyone to guide it?”

“Yeah, basically,” Ava says, collapsing down on the bench behind them, her head in her hands.

Sara sits down next to her, and doesn’t speak for thirty seconds, for a minute. When she does, her voice is hard. “And it’s currently in the Time Bureau, primed to go off the second the sun sets. The Time Bureau, aka the building right in front of us, aka your office.”

“That would be the one.” Ava’s voice is bitter, her jaw tight.

“And despite it being a suicide mission, you’ve decided that it’s your responsibility to run in there and try to stop it from blowing up? You’ve decided that you’re the one who has to risk her life? What the fuck gives, Ava?” Sara’s voice is hard, and her eyes are blazing, and she’s visibly, palpably angry.

“It _is_ my responsibility. This happened under _my_ nose. I was supposed to care for those fugitives, and I didnt even notice him experimenting on them and draining them of their powers in front of me. I didn’t listen when you guys said he was shady, because he was _my_ boss, and I wanted to believe in him. This is my fault. I have to try and stop it. John gave me a spell that I can try—”

“God, what the fuck do you know about casting spells, Ava? Why can’t you let John go in there?” Sara says, gesticulating frantically. “Why _you_?”

“You _know_ it can’t be him. You’re going to need him to defeat Neron, whether or not I can stop this bomb. You don’t need me.”

“We _do_ need you. Who else is going to lead the Bureau?”

Ava blinks back tears, her fingers twisting in her lap. “You’re forgetting that I’m replaceable, Sara.”

“You’re not— you’re not replaceable to _me_ ,” Sara says, tugging Ava’s face up, twisting it so they’re staring at each other, and then pulling Ava in for a kiss. Ava’s breath stutters into Sara’s mouth, fighting against the kiss a little bit, until she finally lets herself relax into it.

“No,” Ava says, when she pulls back. “No. I know. I’m not— a new Ava wouldn’t be your girlfriend. But she could lead the Bureau. And that’s all that _time_ needs me for. So… I’m expendable. John isn’t. You’re not. No-one else is.”

“Ava, that’s not fucking true, and you know it.”

Ava stands up, looking down at Sara. “I love you, Sara. But I have to do this. I have to _try_ to stop it from going off. I have to try. For _you_. I have to try for you. For everyone, but you, especially.”

Sara’s face twists, and she stands up, stepping forward until they’re toe to toe. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ava sighs again, pinching the bridge of her nose, before looking up, her hand coming up to stroke against the soft hair on the nape of Sara’s neck. “The magic will be let loose. No-one guiding it. So it’s going to seek out… people it can understand. People who know magic. People who know death. People like…”

“Me,” Sara says, her voice soft.

“Yeah. So I have to do this.”

In their earpieces, Gideon speaks. “Ten minutes until sundown.”

“You _can’t_ do this,” Sara says, still protesting. “I can stop you from doing this. I can take you down, baby.”

Ava shakes her head, her hands sliding down Sara’s arms, reaching her wrists, bringing them up between both of them. “You’re not going to hurt me,” Ava says, her gaze intense on Sara, stroking her fingers along the underside of Sara’s courier, before leaning in to kiss her again, sucking at her lip, kissing her and kissing her and trying to make Sara forget everything else, forget everything but Ava’s lips.

“If it’s to stop you doing something this _stupid_ , then, sure I will,” Sara says, blinking away a tear, when she finally tears herself away from Ava’s lips.

Ava sighs, finally works the courier off of Sara’s wrist. “I didn’t say you wouldn’t. Just that… you’re not going to this time, because you’re not going to get a chance,” she says, as she opens a portal, pushes Sara through it, and closes it behind her.

She races into the Bureau, talking to Gideon on the comms. “Travel as far away as possible from DC. Australia. New Zealand. Just nowhere near the radius of the blast. I’ve got no idea how far the magic will travel. And, whatever you do, don’t let her off the ship.”

“Affirmative, Director. Captain Lance won’t be going anywhere.”

“Good.”

It’s not hard to find where the bomb is located. Even though it hasn’t been activated yet, it’s radiating magic, so strong it’s almost like a physical obstacle Ava is wading through.

The whole place is deserted, a ghost town, having been evacuated hours before. It’s silent. Her footsteps echo loud in the stillness.

She walks with purpose, knowing that if she stops, she’ll never start walking again. One foot in front of the other. It’s simple, she tells herself.

It’s simple. Everything is simple. Putting the spell circle around the bomb, saying the words John has given her—that’s simple.

Dying, if it doesn’t work, will be simple, as well.

Sara’s told her a little about it.

She’s ready. She’s telling herself that.

(She’s not ready, not at all. She’s not ready to die, but she _is_ ready to die for Sara, and that’s what this is, and somehow there’s a difference.)

The bomb is in her office. It’s a sick joke, seeing it sitting on her desk, glowing ominously. It’s little more than a round stone, with runes carved onto its surface. It looks like the Darhks’ time stone, but she knows it’s so much more than that.

On her phone is a photo of the circle she needs to create on the ground.

When it’s done, she opens up the document with the spell, and waits. Waits until it starts shaking, until the ground seems unstable, and then she starts chanting, the words feeling unfamiliar in her mouth, sounding like gibberish, like nothing.

She wonders, briefly, if John had given her a nothing spell, but pushes that aside. She might not like him, but he wouldn’t do that.

She keeps speaking the words, even as the room fills with a rushing noise, even as it starts to glow so brightly she’s almost blinded, having repeated the words so many times she has them memorised.

Everything gets louder and brighter and louder and brighter until it feels like there is nothing left in the room except light and sound, like Ava herself doesnt even exist anymore, and maybe she doesn’t, because she’s not even sure she’s still talking, not even sure if she’s alive or dead or somewhere in between.

And then there’s a moment of blinding pain, all through her body, and, all she can think, before she blacks out because of it, is that that means she’s not dead—but that’s maybe what’s to come.

 

“If you don’t open that portal up right now, Gideon, I’m going to deactivate you.”

“As an artificial intelligence incapable of feeling emotion, I have no reaction to that statement, Captain.”

“That’s bullshit, and we both know it,” Sara says, slamming her hands down on the console. “Let me off this fucking ship. I’ve got a girlfriend to rescue.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Captain. I am under strict instructions from the Director not to let you leave.”

Sara grits her teeth, her knuckles going white as she grips the console. “She can’t order you around like that. She’s not your captain. I am.”

“Unfortunately, when you accepted money from the Bureau, you signed a contract which designated Director Sharpe your superior. She is able to command me, in particular situations, and I have to obey her orders.”

“She’s going to get herself _killed_.”

“Maybe,” Gideon says, her voice almost soft. “But she’s doing this to protect you. I am only coded to follow her instructions in events such as these—where I am doing it to protect the life of my Captain.”

“I don’t _have_ a life without her, Gideon, you don’t understand, she gave me a life again, I need her—”

Somewhere in her head, Ava’s voice says that’s not true, but Sara ignores that, because that’s what this feels like right now. Like her life will be over if Ava dies.

“Do you trust her?” Gideon asks, her face appearing in the console.

Sara blinks, tears falling. “Yes. Obviously.”

“Then trust that she’s doing what she thinks is right. There is a chance Mr Constantine’s spell will work, that the effects of the bomb will be reversed.”

“Wait,” Sara says. “Reversed. Not stopped. It’s still going to go off, even if the spell works? She’s still going to be exposed to all that magic? That’s still going to kill her, even if it works. I’m running your shutdown sequence.”

“That won’t work. Shutting me down won’t let you portal out. In any case,” Gideon says, her voice sounding sad. “It’s too late, Captain. The sun has set in Washington DC.”

Sara’s head whips around, towards the screen in the library. “No. No. I need to get her out. I need to stop this—”

And then, on screen, there’s an explosion. Not of fire, but of light, of energy. It spreads through the building in a ripple—and then it reverses, as if being drawn back towards the epicentre.

When the light fades, there’s obvious damage to the Bureau's structure.

Sara has no idea how Ava would’ve survived that.

Sara collapses against the table, her legs giving way. “No. No. She can’t— she’s not— She can’t be _gone_. Not like _that_.” She’s hurtling headfirst into a dark a place, a place Ava had always stopped her from falling into.

“I think you’re right, Captain,” Gideon says, and those words grab her by the back of her shirt, pulling her out of the hole. “Her time courier is still registering a pulse.”

“What?” The word falls out of Sara’s mouth. “But— The Bureau just imploded. The magic. She can’t have survived that.”

“The structural integrity of the Bureau _has_ been compromised, but my magic sensors have not detected any magic outside of its boundaries. Certainly not any dark magic. I have reason to believe the spell may have worked, may have changed where the magic was sourced from, and that she may have been able to survive the onslaught, due to its lighter nature.”

Sara’s heart is beating at a mile a minute. “Am I allowed off the ship _now_? I need to find her. She might be injured, she might be dying, I need to _find_ her.”

Gideon is silent for a second, then speaks. “According to my calculations, there is 24% chance that there is, in fact, still dark magic loose. However, I am only required to obey Director Sharpe when there is more than a 50% chance of harm to you. So—”

“So I can go?” Sara says, grabbing their spare courier. “She was in her office, right?”

“Affirmative.”

Sara doesn’t wait for Gideon to tell her anything else before she’s opening a portal, Ava’s office coordinates typed in from memory. When she gets there, she can see through the windows that the rest of the office has been blown apart, but… Ava’s office is intact.

Intact, but she can’t see Ava, until she rounds the desk, and finds her lying, unconscious, on the ground. She doesn’t appear to be hurt, but there’s… scorch marks all around her. Sara falls to her knees next to her, reaches out a hand, lightly touches Ava’s wrist, just checking for a pulse—and then Ava’s eyes snap open.

“Ava?” Sara asks, her voice frantic. “Are you okay? What happened to all the magic?”

Ava pushes herself upwards, leaning against her desk. “I’m not dead? It felt like I died.”

Sara grimaces. “No, baby. You’re not. But can you remember anything about the magic?”

Ava closes her eyes. “No. I don’t— I don’t think so… everything was bright and noisy and then… I woke up.”

Sara sighs. “The magic has to have gone _somewhere_ , Ava. I really need you to try to remember. If it’s on the loose, we need to call John, ASAP.” And then she realises that Ava isn’t listening to her, that she’s staring at her hands, that her eyes are glazed over, like she’s thinking. “Ava. Baby. Do you remember something?”

Ava’s face is confused, but she reaches out a hand, strokes her fingers over Sara’s cheek—and a spark runs from her fingertips, over Sara’s skin.

Sara jolts at the feeling. It didn’t hurt, it was just… unexpected.

“Ava,” she says, slowly. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t— I dont know,” Ava says, looking down at her hands, rising horror on her face. “Sara, I don’t know, I don’t understand, I don’t—” She’s panicking, her breathing speeding up, and that’s when her hands start to _glow_ , energy dancing over them, flickering and weaving over her skin, not hurting her, but like it’s part of her. “Sara,” she whispers. “What am I doing?”

“You’re… glowing, babe,” Sara says, unable to explain it any more than that.

It doesn’t help. Ava’s face is getting more and more stricken, and, Sara notices, her hands are glowing brighter and brighter, until she suddenly has a feeling she has to duck out of the way, moments before Ava raises her hand, and a pulse of light shoots across the office, exploding one of the walls.

Ava stares for a second at what she just did, and then bursts into tears. The glowing has faded, for now, but she’s still shaking, trembling, looking smaller than she ever has. Sara moves a hand to Ava’s cheek, wiping a thumb under Ava’s lashline, trying to catch some of the drops. “Sara. I think— I think… I think I got all of the magic. I think it’s… inside me,” Ava whispers, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I think I absorbed it.”

Sara sighs. “Yeah. I think you did.” She stands up, offers her hand to Ava. “Come on, babe. Let’s get you back on the Waverider. Let’s examine you. We’ll… we’ll figure it out. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Ava takes the hand, and when she stands up, she still seems tiny, despite being just as tall as usual. Sara raises up on her toes, pulls Ava’s face down, pressing a kiss to her temple, stroking her fingers through Ava’s hair. “It’s okay. It’s okay, baby. You’re alive. That’s what matters. That’s all that matters.”

“It felt like I died,” Ava says, her voice still hardly more than a whisper. “I thought I died. ”

 

“You died for a second, pet,” John says, later, while Ava is hooked up to Gideon's systems, being examined both medically and magically at the same time. “Just a second, and then the magic… bonded with you.”

“Our current hypothesis is that you were able to survive the onslaught due to your genetic makeup, Director,” Gideon says.

“Okay. So I died, and then I didn’t die, but can I get rid of it? I don’t want… this. I don’t know what to do with it. I’m not the right person to be given all this, all this _power._ You have to get _rid_ of it, John.”

She’d been ready to die. She wasn’t ready to be this walking magic bomb, this woman with energy sparking at her fingertips. She wasn’t ready for this sort of responsibility, controlling something she didn’t understand.

She knows the Bureau. She knows how to lead them. She doesn’t know this.

She doesn’t know this, so she can’t do this.

“No can do, love. It’s the only thing keeping you alive. You’ll just have to learn to control it, Sharpie.”

Ava grits her teeth, gripping down on Sara’s hand. “There has to be something—“

“There’s not, baby,” Sara says. “Not without risking killing you. We’ll help you work out how to control it, okay? We can do it. I can help you do that.”

Ava sighs, closing her eyes. When she opens them, John is gone. Sara traces her hand over Ava’s cheek, looking down fondly, and then, before Ava knows it’s happening, there’s energy flickering over her whole body, light orange and licking at Sara’s hand.

“Can you feel that?” Ava whispers.

“Mmm,” Sara hums. “It’s warm. You’re warm. And… it’s fucking beautiful, Ava. You’re beautiful.” Ava blushes, and Sara laughs. “You’re glowing harder, baby.” She leans down, joins their lips together. “I’m glad you didn’t die.”

Ava sighs, leaning her forehead against Sara’s. “Yeah, so am I.”

She didn’t want this, but she’ll get through, if only for Sara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most definitely influenced by a certain movie from the rival comics company that shall not be named

**Author's Note:**

> my next one is 'near death experience' and i have mostly got ideas for that but if u have something AMAZING lmk i'm always available on tumblr directoravasharppe.tumblr.com or twitter @_avasharpe


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